


Hero

by thechaoscryptid



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Sex, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 04:23:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21229754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechaoscryptid/pseuds/thechaoscryptid
Summary: Matt's finally back with the people he loves most, and somehow he can only worry they're not going to be there in the morning.





	Hero

**Author's Note:**

> Cleaned up from a Twitter thread!

The Castle of Lions is nothing short of amazing. Pale floors bleed into spires reaching to the stars, and the halls echo with paladin laughter as Pidge drags Matt on a tour. She shows him the training grounds, mess hall, rec areas, even her room, and by the end of it all, Matt is exhausted. He loves her, yes, has missed her more than he can put into words, but the sheer exuberance is too much in the wake of everything that’s happened over the last several years.

His dinner goes down a little hard, the richness of what Hunk prepares something he’s not been used to since he left Earth. Everyone bothers him about what he’s been up to and if he knows anything that Shiro doesn’t about the Galra but really, he doesn’t know how to tell them that he’s done his best to stop those memories from resurfacing. 

All he wants is to fall into the arms of a man he thought he’d never see again.

It’s easy to convince everyone he’ll sleep in Shiro’s room. His commander, his  _ protector,  _ tosses an arm around his shoulders with a light laugh laced with tension, and Matt sinks into the warmth of his side after so long. When they’re alone in the corridor, he presses his cheek into Shiro’s chest. He doesn’t quite trust himself to speak yet, but he hopes the light rubbing of a hand over Shiro’s hip is an all right replacement for ‘I missed you.’

Shiro gets to it first, turning Matt around and pressing him softly to the door when it slides shut behind them. “Matt-” his throat works hard as he bends to press their foreheads together-- “god, it’s been so long.”

“Yeah.” Slowly, tender even through the trembling, Matt brings a hand up to brush his knuckles over Shiro’s cheek. “A while…” At the first touch, Shiro’s skin heats under his fingers. He’s never been one to hide how he feels, especially in situations where it’s them alone and the universe outside doesn’t matter. “You look good,” he whispers, nearly drowned out by the clanking of pipes above their heads. “Everything seems to be going all right.”

“Better now that you’re here with us. With me.” Shiro mimics Matt, thumb swiping away a wetness on Matt’s cheek he didn’t even realize was there. He moves as if to blanket Matt with his body, then stops upon seeing him flinch. “Everything’s not all right,” he says, realization dawning on his face. He drops the hand and steps back, offering it once more as he tips his head toward the bed. “Pajamas are in the middle dresser. Or shirts in the top. They might be a little big.”

Matt screws his eyes shut and crosses his arms before following to sit next to his partner.  _ If we can still call it that,  _ he thinks, but shoves the thought from his mind. His legs come up to rest on the mattress beside them. “I’ll get to it later,” he mumbles. “I don’t want to leave you again.”

Shiro's shoulder moves the slightest bit as he nods in acknowledgement. There's a reticence in the air surrounding them, a silent agreement that if one or the other speaks, the fragile scaffold of their peace will break and everything will come crashing to the ground. Matt continues to let his fingers whisper over the planes of Shiro's back, his head resting heavy on the other man's shoulder.

When, after the stinging in his eyes has receded, Matt decides it's time to speak, he wonders about how things have been without him. "This place seems to have become home," he says, staring at the floor as his hand fists in the waist of Shiro's shirt. "I'm glad you found that."

"It hasn't been home without my Matt next to me," Shiro murmurs. There's no hesitation, no hint of a lie in his voice, and Matt takes a shaky breath in. "Now it is."

"I kept you from peace, huh?"

Shiro's hand tightens on his shoulder before he feels the brush of lips against the hair on his forehead. "You  _ are  _ my peace."

The faintest hint of a smile graces Matt's lips as he curls further into Shiro's side. A muffled shout sounds from next door, and he looks over when Shiro explains it's probably over a video game or a bet about when Keith will  _ finally  _ stop denying he's not always a badass. "It's nice," Matt says softly. "A good change of pace from what I've been used to."

"I'm sure we'll hit that sooner rather than later." Shiro's hand tracks down Matt's spine as he lays back and holds an arm out. "You must be tired."

Matt smiles ruefully. "When am I not, these days?"

"Tough being a hero, isn't it?"

Before the words have fully left Shiro's mouth, Matt's stomach clenches. He's  _ not,  _ and will  _ never  _ be, and when he opens his mouth to protest, Shiro's brow knits in frustration. "I've grown from the man unable to fight in the pits," Matt says, "but I'm not a hero, Shiro. I'm not you."

Shiro's low sigh sets Matt's heart to fluttering, and not in a good way as Shiro props himself up on an elbow and begins to run a finger up and down his thigh. "I wouldn't wish that on you," he says after a minute. "I love you as you are. Not having done the things I've had to do, not having gone through what I've gone through."

"Right." Matt catches Shiro's hand and pulls it to his lips, eyes slipping shut as he presses his lips to cool metal. His breath leaves a soft cloud on the surface before he lays down next to Shiro, throwing an arm over his stomach and trapping Shiro's leg between his thighs. "You love me.”

“Yes.” Shiro rests his chin on the top of Matt’s head, swallowing hard. “I dream of you sometimes. Well, a lot of times.”

Dreaming of Shiro is what kept Matt alive in the prisons, and then in the years past that. His fingers tighten, digging softly into Shiro’s ribs as he moves forward to press chapped lips to Shiro’s throat. “You were always the dreamer of the group,” he whispers. “I suppose I should’ve figured.” He leans into the feeling of Shiro’s steady pulse beneath him, lets the beat comfort him.

“I’ve missed nights like these,” Shiro says.

“I’ve missed a lot.” Fingers roughened by weapons he’d rather not have had to use sweep through Shiro’s hair, tangling in the patch of white on his head to tip it backwards. “I’ve missed--” Shiro grunts softly when Matt’s teeth settle gently over his Adam’s apple-- “you.”

_ “Oh,”  _ Shiro whispers. 

“Yeah,” Matt breathes. “Every part.”

“Matt…”Shiro’s voice quavers, rich with the emotional depth Matt’s spent so much time missing. “You’re exhausted.”

“That’s never stopped me before,” Matt whispers. His lips skirt over the lump in Shiro’s throat, and he feels it bob as Shiro swallows hard. “It’s never stopped you either.” His breath hitches in his chest when he brings his hand up to cup the sharp line of Shiro’s jaw. “I want you to remind me how easy it's supposed to be between us. Please.”

**

Shiro’s heart threatens to burst out of his chest at  _ please.  _ One syllable holds all the heartbreak Matt’s been keeping these last several years, holds the yearning of a man left behind. When he’s unable to find the words to tell him exactly how much he wants that, Matt begins to ramble.

“There hasn’t been anyone else. I haven’t  _ wanted  _ anyone else, Shiro, I promise. I just-I want--” his fingers tighten, curling just below Shiro’s hair as he buries his face in the hollow of his shoulder. “Rebellion doesn’t lend itself to personal time, or time to search for you, or Dad, or-- _ mmn.” _

_ _ Shiro steals the rest with a kiss. If he can’t  _ say  _ it, he’ll be damned if he can’t show it, and Matt seems content enough to let the slide of his lips be enough. 

It’s a hesitant kiss, one that reminds Shiro of their first. Their breath mingles under the soft buzzing of the lights above Shiro’s bunk, just like the neon bar sign had buzzed the night before they left Earth. Smart, starting something the day before a deep space mission? Maybe not, but it had all turned out in the end.

They’ve found each other again, after all, light years away from where they’d started.

Matt breaks away for a breath first, lashes brushing against Shiro’s cheek as his breath washes warm over his neck and soaks into the fabric of his shirt. “God,” he says, and Shiro huffs at the feeling of his cock beginning to swell. “I want you. I love you.”

“Anything you want tonight, baby,” Shiro murmurs. “Just tell me. I won’t hurt you, not again.”

A crooked smile worms its way onto Matt’s face. “You know I trusted you even then?” he says. “When it rains, it hurts, and every time I think of the way you sacrificed yourself for me.” He brings their foreheads together, holding Shiro’s head fast with warm hands. “Hero.”

“Matt.” 

“No protesting.” Shiro finds himself flat on his back in the next second, Matt’s hair backlit and looking every bit like the halo he deserves for surviving everything they’ve been through. “You won’t hurt me, Shiro.” He cants his hips forward and Shiro swears he sees stars. “You can’t, now here.”

Shiro runs his hands up the lean muscle cording in Matt’s thighs. His body is so different now, molded by combat and crisis instead of a few hours in the Garrison training rooms. He  _ believes  _ Matt, chooses to trust him in the same way as he presses his hips up. “You’re positive?” he asks, just in case.

Matt leans down so his lips brush against the shell of Shiro’s ear. “I’m never sure of anything these days,” he says, “but I know I need this, all right? Love me.”

“Okay, baby.” Shiro tips his head to the side to capture Matt’s lips again, gasping when Matt’s teeth close around his bottom lip and  _ tug.  _ The tiny spark of pain lights a flame low in his gut and suddenly, he remembers exactly how good it feels to let go under Matt’s careful ministrations. “Ohhhhkay.”

“I missed that sound,” Matt says. “The way you look…”

“With my eyes,” Shiro says, and it’s enough to earn him a small laugh from Matt.

“Still a dork.”

“Says the nerd.”

Matt smiles fondly, the tension that was so evident in him before beginning to evaporate. “Not so much anymore, hmm? We’ve both changed a bit.”

“Not me,” Shiro says. He covers his white hair with one hand and his scar with the other, nearly obscuring Matt from view. “I’m the exact same man as the last time you saw me.”

“Liar,” Matt murmurs. He pushes Shiro’s hands away in favor of combing the hair back himself, and when Shiro does the same to him, they lean into each other’s touch. “Don’t worry--I’ll forgive it.”

Shiro doesn’t answer, but laces their fingers together and presses his lips to the warmth of Matt’s palm. Matt shivers metal dips below the waist of his pants, and it’s all Shiro can do to take it slow now.

They both need  _ steady. _

_ _ “Shiro,” Matt sighs. His hand trails down Shiro’s neck, over the broad planes of his chest and to his stomach, where it presses evenly. “Always so careful~”

Shiro lets go of his ass to palm the hardness between his legs. “I need that,” he says. “I...I have control over that.”

“It wasn’t a complaint,” Matt whispers, eyes fluttering shut. “It’s a thank you.” He grinds forward into Shiro’s palm with a low whine and Shiro thinks, of  _ all  _ the things he’s seen, that the way Matt’s face twists in pleasure is his favorite. “It’s nice to be cared for.”

It doesn’t come as a surprise to either that Shiro surges up at that, tangling his fingers in Matt’s hair as a moan slips out from deep in his chest.  _ This  _ is what he remembers.  _ This  _ is the sort of night he’s been longing for ever since Kerberos. Matt rolls his hips again as Shiro begins to work his shirt around his stomach, his chest, his neck. There’s a moment where they’re tangled together, trying not to laugh, before he takes Shiro’s face in both hands and whispers he loves him, again and again.

Piece by piece, clothes disappear into a pile on the floor that Shiro  _ swears  _ he’ll clean up later. He devours every inch of Matt,  _ worships  _ him, because he’s nothing if not attentive, and Matt deserves everything he has to offer. He pays special attention to the new scars littering his lover’s body, the way he tries to hide before Shiro caresses them with breathless whispers and a tongue of fire. Matt writhes and Shiro lets him, because he wouldn’t want to be pinned down either.

He  _ can’t  _ be now, not without being afraid of what’s coming next.

When he looks up from his post between Matt’s thighs, he sees him with a knuckle between his teeth and a blush staining all the way down his chest. “You don’t have to hide here, you know,” he murmurs, paired with a small bite to pale skin. “You can let go.”

“Shir-Shiro,” Matt groans, like he doesn’t  _ want  _ to.

Shiro knows him better than that, knows how to make him  _ sing,  _ but he doesn’t push. “It’s okay if you don’t want to.” He tracks his lips along the vee of Matt’s hips before pulling back to rest his cheek on the inside of his partner’s knee. “But like you said...the Castle’s home. You’re home now.”

Matt says his name again, and it drips from his lips like a prayer as Shiro leans forward to take him in his mouth.  _ “Fuck,”  _ he hisses. “God~”

He’s hot and heavy and silky smooth steel pressing down on Shiro’s tongue, salt and bitter twining with the sweetest bitten off moans Shiro’s heard since just before they’d landed on the moon. 

He’s everything, and though Shiro hasn’t ever believed in a god, he thinks he might start tonight.

Matt’s thighs quiver with each calming circle Shiro rubs into them. His hands can’t decide where to stay--they alternate between the sheets, Shiro’s hair, and his own, tangling it into a mess Shiro hopes he’ll be allowed to help with later. Throat aching with the stretch, Shiro finally manages to capture one and hold it steady as he bobs his head. His own erection rests heavily on the sheets and he can  _ feel  _ the spot where he’s dripping, but can’t bring himself to care as Matt takes control. 

He’s missed this too, the filthy wet noise of Matt’s cock in his throat and the way his body shakes as tension heightens. He presses down at a particular hard thrust. “Easy, baby,” he rasps when he pulls off. “You’ve got plenty more time to ruin me.”

“Shit.” When Shiro looks up, Matt has both hands over his face, embarrassed. “Shiro, I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

“Hey,” Shiro soothes, “hey, it’s all right.” He lets Matt’s legs go and starts a slow ascent up his body, trailing his lips along ridged muscle and knotted scar tissue until he captures Matt’s wrists to pull them to the side. “It’s okay,” he says softly. “No worrying.” 

Matt nuzzles into the side of his neck with a shaky sigh. “No worrying,” he parrots.

“None.”

“Mmn.” Nuzzling devolves-- _ evolves,  _ Shiro thinks with a quiet grin--into exploration, and it’s Matt taking his time now. There’s less urgency, less lust and more  _ depth  _ in every kiss and touch. When he reaches between them and grasps both in one hand, Shiro reaches for the bottle of lube he keeps stashed beneath the far corner of his pillow. “Always prepared, aren’t you?” Matt says.

“Better than not.” Shiro clicks the bottle open and dribbles the liquid into Matt’s extended hand, and then a bit into his own. “Together?”

“Yeah,” Matt sighs. 

Shiro occupies himself with the skin of Matt’s shoulder as he lets the younger man lead, his touch hesitant until Shiro encourages him. “C’mon, Matt, I know you like it harder than that,” he says. He props himself up on an elbow and bites his lip when he looks down. “I want to feel you come for me.”

_ “Nngh,”  _ Matt groans. It cuts off abruptly at the feeling of Shiro’s hand on them,  _ guiding  _ him, and soon enough he sheds the mantle of modesty once again. His breathing quickens along with Shiro’s as they move together.  _ “Shiro~” _

_ _ “That’s it, baby, come on, yeah,” Shiro says. Matt’s pulse thunders below his mouth, open as he pants against the soft skin. They’re both close--he feels it in the way Matt’s nails dig into his back, how his body tightens with every passing second. He wants release worse than anything, doesn’t want this moment to end.

Needs Matt to understand just how full his heart is.

“Shiro, I’m gonna-go- _ hnn~”  _ Warmth covers Shiro’s hand as Matt bucks hard up into him. “Fuck,  _ fuck, _ ah...God…”

Shiro’s brow knits when Matt pulls away, giving him space to chase his own pleasure. It doesn’t take long, and the way Matt drags him into a kiss as he spills over his stomach has him  _ soaring.  _

It’s a better feeling than any one he’s had recently.

Breath mingles between them as they lay sated in a bed Shiro never thought would see another person. His arm rests over Matt’s chest, and he’s grateful for every rise and fall because that means Matt’s  _ here. _

_ _ Alive.

“You’re just as beautiful as the first time,” he says.

Matt snorts, but it’s a sound of fond exasperation. “I’m all sticky,” he says, poking at the puddle on his stomach. “I’d feel better if someone got me a towel or something.”

“I’m sure.” Shiro peppers kisses across the swell of Matt’s shoulder before getting up with a low groan, accidentally planting his dirty hand into the sheets. His nose wrinkles. “Actually, on second thought, shower? I’ll take care of this and be in in a minute.”

“Carry me?”

“I think your time away from me might have made you lazy,” Shiro teases, but slides off the bed and hefts Matt against his chest. Matt clings fiercely to him, almost to the point of hurting. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Matt’s cheeks are wet again when he rubs his face on Shiro’s chest. “It’s just...you’re here,” he sniffs. “You’re real.”

“Of course, baby.”

Matt’s grip tightens, and Shiro swears he feels his heart crack at the hitch of his breath. “Fuck the sheets,” he says. “Do them later. I still don’t want you to leave me, okay? Stay and shower with me.”

Shiro shifts him to his head doesn’t hit the door on the way into the shower, sets him down and blocks the first freezing blast of water with his chest. He reaches back and keeps a steady hand on Matt’s hip until he deems the spray warm enough, then switches places and holds Matt close. “Whatever I can do to help,” he whispers. “Say the word and I’m there. I’m all yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments always read and _very_ much appreciated, and I always do my best to get back to them ❤️
> 
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